


Piano e Forte

by wyles77



Series: Better Angels [4]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/F, Mass Effect 3: Citadel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 12:12:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16449737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyles77/pseuds/wyles77
Summary: One-shot. After an overly eventful start to their shore leave, Liara and Shepard finally find the time for a quiet evening in. Better Angels 'verse, rated M for adult themes and some language.





	Piano e Forte

Liara sighs in heartfelt relief as she steps across the threshold of Shepard's new apartment on the Citadel. 

_Alone at last._

It's quiet; peaceful, even, when not being co-opted as a forward operating base. The idea of having the Normandy in for maintenance and shore leave had assuredly  _not_  been to engage in yet another life-or-death chase across the Citadel. Or to violate about a hundred civil statutes in breaking into the archives. Or to fight an evil clone of her lover for control of the Normandy, and for Shepard's very identity.  _Athame in your mercy, grant us your peace this night, ere the clarion summons us to battle once more. Stand the watch, oh goddess of fate, that we may seek your judgement with the coming of the dawn,_  Liara recites softly in her head, a warrior's prayer for rest and respite.

It had taken hours for C-Sec to go through and process all the details of the incident. Liara had hung back, catching a nap here and there, waiting till the end so that all she was really required to do was corroborate the testimony of the others. Banking on C-Sec being so sick of going over the same story again and again that they would not look for additional details, such as how Liara had tracked down the stolen weapons, or how they'd cracked the casino security. Fortunately, the revelation of just how they'd managed to gain access to the Normandy's emergency crawl space had provided more than enough titillation for a bunch of bored cops, more than enough deflection to safeguard Liara's secret occupation. Admittedly, with Shepard's status as a Spectre, there isn't much incentive for them to dig, but Liara has learned well the most important lesson of the information broker's trade; never give information away if you don't have to.

Shepard had left well in advance, with a brief whisper of, "Tell the others to restart their shore leave. I'll check in with them again tomorrow, but I need some space."

Liara had recognized the tiredness in Rachel's gaze, the emotional fatigue that went well beyond the physical exertions of the last few days, and though she wanted to help soothe it, she knew that sometimes a little solitude was the best medicine. "I'll take care of everything with the crew, don't worry. Get some rest, love. I'll see you tomorrow."

"No." Shepard had tweaked Liara's chin gently. "I don't want to be alone  _all_  night. Come to the apartment later, Li. Please. Let's have that quiet night in you were talking about."

"Of course. I'll be there as soon as I can."

Now, six hours later, as Liara looks around Anderson's former home, she wonders if Rachel is sleeping. She hopes so; the running battle with the clone took a lot out of her. And it's not like she wasn't tired before they even arrived, what with the fighting on Rannoch.

Night, as it were, has fallen on the Citadel; the garish neons of the Silversun Strip blare orange, pink, and gold instead of the cooler blues and greens of their daytime trappings. The tall picture windows have been set to polarize incoming light, and the muted warmth compliments the rich brown woods and leathers of the floor and furniture. Whoever decorated the apartment knew what they were doing; the open, airy space feels inviting and tranquil.

Liara is about to turn toward the stairs when she notices the grand piano. Intrigued, she steps closer to examine it. She's seen it before, of course, but this is the first opportunity she's had to take a private look at it. She rests the fingers of her left hand lightly on the keys, enjoying the cool, polished smoothness. Gently, she presses down on one key, and a warm bass note sounds quietly. The weight of the keys is different to what she remembers from the keyboard Olena used to carry around, from the similar instrument now gathering dust in her mother's town house. This instrument's keys are heavier, but the timbre of the struck note, natural rather than synthesized, is that much richer. Captivated, Liara presses the key with a little more force, and the deep note swells through the quiet of the apartment.

 _How did it go again? It started higher than that, I'm sure._  Liara tries to call to mind the song Olena taught her, knowledge buried beneath decades of digs and data, a lifetime ago and a galaxy away, or so it feels now. By a process of elimination, she eventually finds her start point, and she's happily immersed in the puzzle of remembering the tune and its accompaniment when a familiar, irritating voice interrupts her. "Greetings, Commander," Glyph trills, cutting Liara's impromptu recital short. She turns about to see Shepard approaching, hair tousled, a contented smile on her face. She looks rested and relaxed, much better than she did earlier.

"I didn't know you could play?" she questions, clearly surprised.

"Actually, this is the only song I know," Liara confesses, the words in themselves a tale of hours of practice time gone begging, good intentions driven out by work, study, procrastination, and simply never having the dedication, the drive to become proficient, to overcome the frustration of not progressing as fast as she thought she should.

"Why's that?" Shepard asks, reading her mind.

Liara offers a half-shrug. "There was always something more important to do. A ruin to uncover. Intel to gather." She winks at her lover. "A commander to save."

"Hah! That happens to you a lot, does it?" Shepard twits her back, mischief lighting her eyes. "You couldn't sit still long enough," she accuses.

Liara laughs, conceding defeat. Rachel knows her too well. "Could you?"

"Is there something special about this song?" Shepard tempers her moment of triumph with her interest in learning something new about Liara, and for a moment the asari feels an ache in her chest.  _Goddess, how did I come to be so lucky as to have you love me?_

"On one of my first digs, a storm swept in. We were trapped inside. I was  _so_  restless; I wanted to get back to work. One of the other archaeologists, Dr. Olena, had this keyboard. She took it everywhere." Liara tries to play the tune again, making a little more headway this time. "She taught me to play this song."

"It's a good song," Shepard offers supportively, though Liara's not certain how anyone could recognize it from her error-riddled pecking at the keys. But the intent of the statement is far more important to Liara than the words.

"Thank you, Rachel," she says, turning to give her lover a grateful smile before trying one last time to get the tune right. Another failure, but she's accepting of her defeat. "I've always loved that song." She walks from the piano to the window, with Shepard following, but before either of them can speak, Glyph begins to quietly play the song Liara has been trying to recall. The plaintive, haunting melody soars through the apartment. Shepard's gaze locks with Liara's, a faint smile curling one corner of her mouth, and suddenly, for a moment, Liara is overwhelmed. The song is a fond lament for a lost love, meant to be uplifting in the asari way, but all Liara can see suddenly is the broken, frightened stare of Shepard's clone as she fell to her death, the memory flash threatening to disrupt the tender moment of happiness she is sharing with the real Shepard.  _Pull yourself together, for Athame's sake. She's here, she's fine._  "Shepard, I..." she tries to start the conversation again, but the music is distracting so she turns, meaning to walk back to the piano and shut Glyph off.

Shepard's light touch on her arm stops her dead. The commander drags her fingers over Liara's armoured forearm as she spins her gently round, a playful, futile attempt at a tickle that drags a reflex smile to Liara's lips. "What... are you doing?" she demands, trying for a teasing tone.

"Making sure you don't run off to something more important," Shepard replies good-humouredly as she tugs Liara toward her.

"I can't imagine what that would be," Liara says softly, and she means it. Nothing is more important to her than the woman in front of her. Meeting Shepard's gaze, she offers a smile as she reaches out to comb her hair out with her fingers, and the human sighs happily.

"We should do this more often," she murmurs.

 _How I wish we could. How I wish we had the time to spare to just live._  "Yes, well...maybe after..."

"Every day after," Shepard says simply as she takes Liara's hands, as though she doesn't dare to give the future more definition than that. Liara doesn't need definition, though. The promise inherent in Shepard's words, of a life lived together, is more than enough.

"Shepard." Liara smiles at the words, and dips her head coyly as the commander pulls her in close. She runs her fingers through Shepard's hair again as the soldier kisses her, tongue nudging gently at Liara's lips. Liara grants the unspoken request, parting her own lips, and the kiss deepens. There's no heat, none of their brightly burning passion, just love, a deeply affectionate caress that reaffirms the quiet sanctity of this moment. When Shepard eventually breaks the kiss, she rests her forehead against Liara's, keeping them close, the intimate contact a barrier against the outside world.

"Every day after," Liara assures her solemnly. "Did you manage to get some sleep?"

"Yeah, I caught a couple of hours," Shepard replies. "Crashed out as soon as I got here. I feel a lot better for it. It was a pretty rough day."

"That's putting it mildly," Liara chuckles softly. "History is replete with wars won with fewer battles than we've fought over the past twenty-four hours."

Shepard sighs. "No doubt. I'm just glad we got through it without anyone getting seriously hurt. Man, that Brooks woman was damaged goods."

"Your alter ago didn't seem the most balanced of individuals either."

"Yeah." Shepard falls silent, her gaze turning introspective. Liara instinctively places a kiss against her lover's forehead. She doesn't have to ask what Shepard's thinking of, or why she tried to save the clone. It's who Shepard is, the fundamental tenet of her character, which the clone, its twisted personality moulded by self-serving, power-hungry, unfeeling tyrants, never had a hope of being able to comprehend. She does, however, have to ask what Shepard felt when it was falling.

"Pity," Shepard admits. "And regret. She was a tool, an object, a way for Brooks to get back at the Illusive Man. There was nothing and no one in her life that she could count on to have her back, and she realised that before she died. Brooks built her up, then took everything away from her with that one move, that one step back. No one should have to die alone like that." She looks back at Liara steadfastly, a little too perceptively. "What about you?"

"Even though I had hold of your hand, even though I knew you were all right, it was... it was like watching you fall, watching you torn away from me again. I don't know if you saw, but I tried to catch her, biotically. It was instinctive, reflex;  _you_  were falling, and..." Liara tries to shrug it off, "part of me was suddenly back on the SR-1, watching you walk away from me, but knowing this time that you wouldn't be coming back."

"It wasn't me, Li," Shepard reassures her in a whisper. "I'm still here. I'm not leaving."

Suddenly needing more, Liara cups Shepard's face in her hands and takes her lips in a forceful, combative kiss that challenges and provokes, and this time, a familiar fire kindles. Shepard kisses back, fierce and resolute, her hands gripping Liara's shoulders, and by the time they break for air, Liara is dizzy, trembling, leaning into Shepard for support. "Oh, Goddess."

"Dr. T'Soni, are you in distress?" Glyph brays. "Your biometric readings are..."

"Glyph?" Shepard snaps out.

"Yes, Commander?"

"Go away. I'll look after her."

"But, Commander, if the doctor is unwell, as her elevated pulse and blood pressure indicate..."

"Glyph," Shepard growls impatiently. "Fuck off and stop peeping, you little pervert."

Liara giggles, pressing her fingers to Shepard's lips. "It doesn't know what that means. Glyph, go to standby."

The haptic orb winks out, and Shepard grins. "I think you should teach it human profanity - I would find it cathartic to have something to vent at now and again."

"The infernal thing will probably go off and do some research now that you've given it new information. Don't be surprised if it knows more swearwords than you do when it comes back online."

"Not possible," Shepard chuckles. "I'm an Alliance marine."

"You don't swear that much."

Shepard plants a delicate kiss just beneath Liara's jaw. "I know a shitload of swearwords... but I do try to mind my manners in front of a lady."

"Oh, is that right?" Liara grins. "That's sweet of you, Rachel, but don't feel the need to restrain yourself on my account."

Shepard grins back. "I'll remember that. But speaking of restraint…" she nuzzles at Liara's neck. "I find I'm rapidly losing it." She pulls in a deep breath, exhales slowly. "God, Li. Do you have any idea how much I want you right now?" she murmurs huskily, her breath hot against Liara's cheek. "I want to undress you, open you up, run my fingers over your skin, feel you tremble under my hands. Taste you."

"Show me," Liara commands unashamedly as the words stoke her own desires.

Shepard silently takes her hand and leads her to the soft couch, sitting her down and bending to unbuckle the clips that hold Liara's chest plate in place. Stripping it out, she tosses it to the floor, and bends again to open Liara's collar and unseal the seam of her compression top. Liara shivers as the cool air of the apartment seeps into the gap to tickle her skin, but she does not make any attempt to resist or assist with Shepard's activity.

Shepard unsnaps the clips holding her abdominal plate to her jacket, discards the armour, unstraps the thigh plate on her right leg, then kneels to pull off Liara's right boot. She does all of this in silence, her gaze focused on her hands, with deliberate, sure movements that underline her intimate familiarity with the task of undressing Liara. The knowledge of what's likely to come makes Liara shiver despite the almost clinical nature of Shepard's touch. A warm tension begins to build in her body and she stretches languorously, clenching her pelvic muscles as she does so and feeling the first pulse in her azure as she slides against the fabric of her rapidly dampening underwear.

One boot discarded, one leg relieved of its armour, Shepard reaches up and tugs Liara's gloves off, one at a time. Patient, methodical, and still silent, the soldier then repeats her actions with Liara's left leg. She unfastens Liara's leggings, hooks her fingers into the waistband of Liara's panties, and tugs commandingly. Liara obediently lifts her hips, careful to present a provocative pose as Shepard slides her garments down, and suddenly, almost too swiftly for Liara to fully appreciate, Shepard dips in and kisses her, a quick peck right at the tip of her sex. Liara's hips buck involuntarily at the sudden, surprising caress, but it's gone before she can properly react, beyond the whimper that escapes her lips.

Shepard drops the leggings and panties at the side of the couch, then kneels. Placing her outstretched thumbs against the insides of Liara's knees, she runs her hands up Liara's thighs, gently pushing her legs apart to give herself some space. She shuffles forward until her thighs hit the base of the couch, and then tucks her thumbs into the seal of Liara's top and pulls the sides apart, baring Liara's torso. Cool air washes over the asari's body, and she feels her nipples tighten in response. Shepard sits back a little, her gaze roaming freely, hungrily over Liara's exposed body. Naked from the waist down, arms trapped in her loosened clothing, laid out on display like a half-unwrapped gift, Liara feels incredibly vulnerable and unexpectedly excited, and she can feel the warm blush of embarrassment and arousal flushing her face and neck. The suspense is an exquisite torture: her skin is tingling with the anticipation of the touch of Shepard's hands and mouth; her azure is throbbing at the thought of Shepard's fingers and lips caressing her. Shepard continues looking but not touching, for what feels like an eternity, seemingly waiting for something. "Rachel, please, touch me," Liara whispers when she can't stand it anymore, half command, half plea.

Shepard smiles, and slowly stretches out one hand, running her fingertips from Liara's left shoulder to the opposite hip, her touch light and sensuous. She repeats the motion in the opposite direction, and then blows lightly across Liara's breasts, drawing her nipples to hard peaks. "Beautiful," she murmurs, that one word ringing in Liara's perception as Shepard covers her body with her own and grants her a deep, heated kiss that sucks all the air from her lungs. The fabric of her t-shirt is rough against Liara's skin, almost scratchy on the sensitive, scale-free strip that runs from her azure to the valley between her breasts. Liara moans softly, hoping the sound will encourage more contact. Shepard breaks the kiss, smirks, nips Liara's lower lip with her teeth, and slides back to her original position, kneeling before her lover. Watching, and waiting.

"Goddess, Rachel," Liara groans, "what are you trying to do to me?"

Shepard runs one finger teasingly through the warm, wet folds of Liara's sex, provoking a shudder. "You're a smart girl, Li, you should be able to figure it out." Reaching up, she traces the same finger across Liara's lips, and Liara, offered a tiny window of control, locks her gaze with Shepard's as she captures the finger between her teeth and sucks on it.

Shepard growls in the back of her throat, tugs her finger loose, and draws a damp trail across Liara's cheek, down the sensitive skin of her throat, over her collarbone and down to the nipple of Liara's left breast, pausing to pinch the little bud. Splaying her hand, she gathers the breast in her palm and kneads it gently, using her left hand to trace abstract patterns on Liara's belly, occasionally dipping low enough to tease her azure. What would normally be unbearably ticklish transmutes into something fantastically sensual as Shepard continues to massage Liara's breast, rolling her thumb over the nipple. When the soldier leans in to plant a series of hot, open-mouthed kisses down the rungs of Liara's ribcage and along her flank to her hipbone, it's beyond Liara's ability to lie still, and she writhes beneath Shepard's hands, a needy, tortured whimper escaping her. Her body feels as though it's afire where Shepard has touched her, lighting intertwining trails of arousal beneath her skin. Trying to sit up, she reaches for Shepard, only to have the Spectre catch her hands and surge upwards, pushing her down into the soft cushions. Her belt buckle, cold and hard, grazes against Liara's azure as she moves, and Liara's hips jerk at the contact, driving her core instinctively against Shepard's hips. She flops back with a moan, unstrung; Shepard has trapped her hands, resting them gently against her midriff, and pinned her to the couch with her upper body.

"No, baby," she whispers, her mouth against Liara's aural cavity, the ends of her hair tickling the asari's cheek. "Let me touch you. Let me enjoy looking at you, feeling you."

"But I want you, too."

"You have me. Tonight, all night, and every night, for as long as you want me."

"Then join with me," Liara breathes.

"No," Shepard kisses her neck as she speaks, trying to soothe the rejection. "Not yet. I want to do this for you... I want to watch you let go, watch you lose yourself... completely... in what I'm doing to you. I love watching that, it makes me want you even more. Hold out for me. I'll... make it...mmm... worth your while." She works her way back down to Liara's left breast with her lips. Cupping the soft flesh with one hand, Shepard draws the nipple into her mouth, and a shock of arousal spikes Liara's nervous system at the scrape of the spectre's teeth against the sensitized bud. Biotic energy smokes from her skin, wreathing Shepard in ethereal blue light as the Spectre lovingly worships Liara's body. "Mmm, you're so soft," she murmurs, her husky, desire-filled voice a caress as arousing as the fingertips tracing circles down Liara's belly. "So beautiful." Shepard's hands shift, fingers trailing along the sensitive edges of the not-long-healed scars from the banshee's attack, and Liara moans, arching her back to drive herself into Shepard's maddening touch, fingers scrabbling at the fabric of the couch. "So sexy." Her skin is tingling all over, electrified by her lover's wandering hands and mouth and the discharge of dark energy subliming from her. Shepard kisses her way lightly down the side of Liara's breast, her grip tightening to secure Liara's hips as she replaces her fingers on Liara's scars with her lips, nipping and sucking at the tender flesh. The asari bucks helplessly against the soldier's hold, the restraint only making the strain inside her worse, and another moan is drawn from deep within her.

"God," Shepard murmurs throatily against her skin, "that is the sexiest sound I've ever heard." Her hands begin roving again, patiently fanning the flames of the asari's passion, adding fuel to the fire with each stroke, each pinch, each soft scratch. "Am I making you feel good, Li?"

"Oh, Goddess..."  _Yes!_  There are no words, even in Liara's extensive vocabulary, for how good. Trembling uncontrollably as anticipation winds her muscles, as the tension in her belly coils tighter and tighter, Liara can barely comprehend the moment in which Rachel's fingers finally alight upon her aching azure, stroking her with a deliberately arrhythmic pattern, never allowing her to anticipate or set herself. "Oh, Rachel... please," she pleads brokenly, her breathing ragged, her hips jerking, seeking her lover's elusive touch. She can feel herself slipping, feel her control of her urge to meld, to mate, snapping, one gossamer thread at a time. "I can't..., I... ah..."

"It's OK, sweetheart," Rachel soothes, stilling her hand for a moment. Liara gazes into her eyes and sees nothing but love and reverence. "Hold out for me as long as you can, but if you can't, you just let go. You have my permission, always." Without breaking their gaze, she slides two fingers down, and sheathes them gently inside Liara. "I love you, Li. I've got you. Just let go."

Liara reaches down with one flailing hand, desperate for an anchor as Shepard's deft touch moving within her threatens to leave her totally unmoored. "Rachel, please, ah... your hand."

Shepard laces the fingers of her free hand with Liara's searching digits, clasping their palms together in a reassuring squeeze, and Liara looks down just in time to see Rachel lower her head. Their gazes lock, and even though she's anticipating it, nerves thrilling with the need to feel this most intimate of kisses, Liara is caught off guard when Rachel's warm, soft mouth closes over her azure, the sweep of her tongue synched perfectly with a sudden, deep thrust of her fingers.

It's too much. Shepard's relentless teasing has done its work too well, overloading Liara's systems, and her control shatters instantaneously, a catastrophic failure as her body overrides her will. Reaching out blindly, every barrier dropping, every part of her open and exposed, she latches onto Rachel's mind, and melds with the desperation of the drowning.

Time stops.

Rachel's presence bursts into her mind like a supernova, wrapping her in a joyful sunburst of emotion; love, trust, and unleashed passion. Vaguely, she's aware of Rachel continuing to pleasure her physically, the pace and rhythm increasing almost stroke by stroke. Rachel's arousal floods into her perception, a searing torrent of molten gold, rippling through Liara's own desire and amplifying it tenfold as the waves of pleasure overlap. Overwhelmed, Liara's last fragile hold on self is torn loose, throwing her into a vortex of white light and heat as her body shudders under the sudden, violent release of tension.  _Together_. Their two souls merge into a single euphoric whole, and there's no telling which of them cries out, a primal scream of raw emotion that reverberates through the meld like a gong struck in an echo chamber.

Time starts.

Liara comes back to herself still shivering, and the loss of her connection to her lover makes the world seem muted and washed-out as she blinks and sucks in a deep breath. She's sitting across someone's thighs. One strong arm is locked securely around her, her forehead is pressed into the junction of a neck and a shoulder, a hand is soothingly stroking the folds of her neck, and warm lips are pressed against her crest. "You OK, babe?" Rachel's voice, raw and husky, drifts in from somewhere above her.

"Mmm," Liara confirms, tilting her head back to gaze at Shepard. Her human's skin is flushed, damp with sweat, and her eyes are so dark there's almost no green to be seen in them. "That was..." She can't verbalize it, not yet. "I don't know what that was."

"Unbe-fucking-lievable, Li," Shepard supplies in a reverent tone, and Liara chuckles, pressing a kiss to her lover's jaw.

"Yes, I think that might just do it justice." She sits up a little, wrapping her arms around Shepard's neck. "I think you succeeded in your goal of making it worth my while."

"Ha, yeah. I kind of forgot that it was likely to pull me right along with you," Shepard admits. "Usually we're sharing the workload, as it were, a little more." She flashes Liara a bashful grin. "I sure hope the neighbours aren't home."

"Oh, goddess, did I..."

"I don't think it was only you, sweetheart." Shepard's smile widens as she reaches up to scratch at the back of her neck. "Judging by the pain in my throat. I need a drink."

"That's an excellent idea," Liara sighs happily. "Tell you what. You grab the wine, I'll run the bath, and we can continue our quiet night in."

"If this is your idea of a quiet night in, I may never want to party ever again," Shepard chuckles. She brushes her thumb down Liara's cheek. "I'm glad you came, Li."

Liara grins in delight, afforded a rare opportunity. "I'm glad you did, too, Rachel."

Shepard gapes at her for a second, then bursts out laughing, crushing her into a hug. "Oh my God. I love you."

"I love you too."


End file.
